Missing Hearts
by Kyuun
Summary: There are many different endings to this story...That is what Jack had once said. But there are also many different stories that could play out from Sablier. Join Oz, Alice, and the gang as they follow one of these alternate paths. But what makes it different, who is the enemy and who is a friend? And what brings these status's about? Ozbert-mainly


_**Hello! This is Kyuun! Wow...I haven't been on in ages, I really am sorry about that guys! Life kinda gets in the way, doesn't it! But I thought I'd rewrite some of my stories...again I apologize. This is a rewrite of Forbidden Hearts but I changed the name to missing! w I hope you can find a way to forgive me! I needed to rework it and lengthen the chapters. Please enjoy it, but if not...oh well! X3**_

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

_There once was a place...that was in a world separate from reality._

_A place that one could watch all the stories play out and manipulate them from a far. That place was know as the abyss. No man that has entered that place has made it out alive...And no human could possibly exist in such a place. It is a world of darkness, a world without light. Or so the stories say._

_Because, once upon a time, there was a boy...one who fell into one story from another and played a role in a great tragedy. A tragedy, he'd been a part of as a separate entity...Now he lived, loved, and exists within the realm between reality and fiction._

_This child became a fragment of broken realities, where he has watched a thousand stories end along side one that many people seek to obtain. _

_A hundred years and naught but the most tainted, awful men have passed through their sights...but are they truly awful? Many...yes, but some no. _

_Reality is a sad world...with much suffering. A world where that which remains, after all is lost, is not always hope. But where there is a will...There is a way. And as the pages that have always been controlled slowly come to their close, this boy shall change this tragic story into that which won't end._

_Even if it means reality ceases to exist._

The surrounding area was dark, it'd been this way ever since he's last glimpsed the bright castle like manor and the ticking clock that had been silent for a hundred years. It was as if he closed his eyes or was trapped in a box.

To the young, Oz Vessalius, it was a nightmare straight out of a storybook. He'd ran, unsure of how long he did so, but he, too afraid that if he'd stopped the things that lingered would devour him, did not cease. The only thing that kept him from giving up was that and and the belief that somewhere, somehow he'd be able to escape this terrifying place.

Those relentless thoughts of escape kept reeling in his mind, as well as, thoughts of regret and grief. Memories of how he'd cut down his beloved friend not even moments before dug deep into his heart but also stung the wound on his chest that had opened the portal to this place of darkness, in the first place.

"Which way...Which way...There's got to be a way out!" He cried out, knowing that, it was useless and no one would hear him. Continuing his ever faltering pace, he moved forward; the panic in his mind growing more and more, driving him to push his body to move faster. But he knew he could only do that for so long before his body gave out. 'No matter which way I run, it's the same.' He thought slowing his pace, feeling his legs tremble, threatening to give way underneath him. "I have to keep moving...I cannot give up." He thought moving to continue his pace. "Gil...He might still be alive. I have to get help." He breathed moving, to take a step but he stumbled forward and fell but as he did, strange things appear and he ended up leaning against, pieces of what looked like broken wall. Toys and furniture then begun to float down out of no where, causing him to tense before he gave up and leaned against the crumbling wall, sinking to what he figured was a ground.

He let his breath catch up with him but he pulse did not stop ramming against his rib cage. The cold loneliness of the darkness that surrounded him only caused him to feel as though he'd die right there. He felt from the depth of his heart, that he wished for someone to rescue him. Closing his eyes, he wished for it, almost wanting to beg for it.

He'd just had seemingly dozed off from his exhaustion when he sensed something appear beside him. This caused his body to tense, before he quickly stumbled to his feet to see a full length mirror resting in front of him. He looked at his reflection, it bemused him that he was able to see his reflection, be it that there was no light but he'd lost all ability to be surprised.

He noted that he looked awful. His clothes, blood-soaked, dirty, and tattered, were once a beautiful garment that had been made for his coming-of-age ceremony. A grand party that was ruined by the appearance of the Red Reapers of who put him in his current position. He looked into his eyes, exhaustion brimming pools of crimson looked back at him.

"Red...? That's not-" Oz's reflection blinked causing the boy to jump back away from the mirror. The glass rippled, like water in a lake, as Oz watch his own reflection change, but the only thing that seemed to change was the way he was dressed.

A large black cloak, covered his body, hiding the tattered and bloody suit, he was wearing in reality and a black and gold mask, which resembled that of a rabbit's head, laid in his hands. It was all rather strange to Oz, and he did not let his guard down, even as the reflection bowed his head to Oz, as if he were greeting him.

The two stood there staring at each other for a few moments before a smile spread across the reflection, the same smile that Oz often smiled when he wanted to make sure someone was not worried over him. The kind of forced and painful expression that caused Oz's heart to ache even more. He knew that smile was his own but at the same time, he wondered, did he always look so sad when he smiled like that.

He was so engrossed with gawking at his reflection he seemed to completely forget where he was.

_Do you seek freedom?_ A voice asks, snapping Oz out of his own thought that he pulled his eyes away from the mirror trying to figure out where that voice came from.

"What? Wh-Who?" Oz whispers looking back to his reflection, that was no longer smiling and he cast his eyes down, with an almost sad expression.

_Do not be afraid...Oz Vessalius._ The voice sounded, as his reflection moved his lips, causing Oz to realized who it was that was speaking to him.

"Y-You...know my name?" He breathed in slight horror and amazement, he knew it might be a monster, he knew it might try to kill him but at the same time he couldn't help but be curious about the fact his reflection was talking to him. In a soft voice, much like his own, no less.

_Do you seek the truth...?_ The voice asks as his reflection turned its gaze back onto Oz with a stern and determined stare, piercing Oz with a sense of panic from the red gaze.

"The truth...to what?" Oz asks, timidly placing his hand against the glass, just to make sure it was really a mirror and he was in no danger.

_Do _you_ seek the _truth_?_ It asks again, it's eyes growing tense and almost fearful of what may happen if Oz said 'no'. Oz glanced away for a moment trying to think of what 'truth' this being could be talking about before coming to the conclusion that he may be able to obtain the truth of his incarceration. Returning the gaze of his reflection with the same intense look he pushed on his hand that was against the glass, as if he could grab the person on the other side.

"I want to know the truth about why I was thrown into the abyss...Can you tell me?" Oz states watching his reflection put on the mask, it had been holding. Now, Oz could only see the lower part of his face and the real smile that had formed on his reflections lips as he pressed his hand against the place Oz's had been resting his right.

The next thing Oz knew was that a hand was grabbing his and he was pulled into the mirror, without even time to struggle or a chance to break free. The only thing that was heard were the soft almost sorrow-filled words:

_Then, please, hear my story._


End file.
